


A Shadow on Reality

by hollo



Series: Nearer [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: American Sign Language, Demons, Existential Crisis, Horror, Lovecraftian, M/M, Multi, Muteness, Paranoia, Psychological Drama, Supernatural Elements, eventually, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-26 00:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3829939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollo/pseuds/hollo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-continuation of A Three Point Plan, set about ten years in the future-<br/>In a town with as many supernaturally dark secrets as Gravity Falls, the line between truth and paranoia is a thin one. For Dipper, that fine line tends to blur quite a bit. Is anything ever what it seems?<br/>-dipper POV-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't already, you might want to give A Three Point Plan a read: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3699452/chapters/8185364  
> Go ahead, take your time. We'll still be here, waiting for you...  
> For those who have shown up after finishing ATPP, read on! This is the prologue, and it does something very special - it puts you one step ahead of Dipper, who is unable to read this prologue and therefore has to deal with everything in the story without the additional information it provides.
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: This is the one and only time this story is not in Dipper's POV. The prologue is Robbie's POV and we start with Dipper in Chapter 1.  
> I hope that doesn't confuse too much.
> 
> Please feel free to bug me at itsdetachable.tumblr.com and if you are on tumblr, and want to get updates or whatever on this story, you can check the tag : ashadowonreality as that's what I'll be using for updates and snippets and story talk
> 
> ENJOY!

Robbie huddled in a ball, flashlight held in his hands at the center streaming light up into his face. It was easier this way, to start dreams like this. He could never tell how they'd begin, or how they'd end. It was better not to watch, better to hide with his flashlight, better not to know.

The flashlight almost always stayed on. Almost.

Before he learned to use a flashlight he almost never slept. There were things in the darkness that waited for him, so he stayed awake and kept the lights on and did anything he could to keep himself from falling asleep. He'd do absolutely anything - and his body was living testament to that. Sleep stole up on him anyways, a thief in the night, stealing his life and stealing his sanity. It would've been easier to manage if he could wake himself up but no matter how hard or how loud or how long he screamed he couldn't. The darkness always decided itself when it came, and when it left. 

If he hadn't been given the flashlight, taught to use it, he'd be dead. He would be DEAD. He said it to himself: dead, dead, dead, dead dead deaddeaddeaddeaddeADEADEADEADDEADDEADDEAD

"Robbie."

He stiffened at the sound of the familiar, two-toned voice. Was he hearing things? He had to be...

"Robbie?"

Now it was accompanied by a laugh. Could it really be?

Robbie refused to believe. He huddled deeper around the flashlight, stared at its brightness until his eyes stung. All that was, was him and the flashlight. All that was, was him and the flashlight. All that was-

"Come on now." Hands touched his shoulders in an attempt to straighten him up. He whimpered and resisted.

"No need to hide anymore, really," The voice was exasperated. The hands moved to his head. There was a great strength in those hands, Robbie knew it personally, but they were gentle. They patted his head. They prodded it delicately. They kept their actions up insistently until Robbie finally unfurled a little and lifted his head so he could see the world around him.

"No need for the flashlight now," the voice said, and the hands reached out to gently remove the flashlight from between his clenched fingers. As soon as it was free, it vanished.

"There you go. Better?"

Robbie blinked, though he didn't need to. Dream eyes didn't suffer the same effects from staring into the light as physical eyes did, and he could see perfectly fine.

The person belonging to the voice reminded him of a guy he knew when he was a teen. The person was dark skinned, with dark curly hair and a medium build. The only difference was, this man’s skin had a golden tint when the light hit it right, and the dark curls had gold threaded through them. And the eyes - this man’s eyes were pure gold. No pupil, just full color. Right then, they shown softly with golden light as the man smiled.

"Better, right?" The man said. Robbie hesitated a moment, then nodded. He did feel better. There was no darkness around, only a softly glowing sky of bluish purple and the field of purplish grass they sat on.

"Thought... Thought you weren't coming back..." Robbie mumbled in a voice hoarse from disuse. The man looked shocked.

"What? Couldn't wait a few days for my return?" He joked. Robbie shot him a baleful look and wrapped his arms around his knees.

"Three months." He said.

The man looked puzzled. He started counting days, ticking them off on his fingers. Each time he ran out of fingers on his hand, a new finger sprouted, until his hand resembled a jellyfish with a frightening amount of thick tentacles. Finally he waved the jellyfish hand dismissively, ridding it of tentacles, and sighed.

"Fine, so I've been gone longer than I said I would be." The man said, and shrugged. "Although time IS relative, kid. Maybe it was three months for you, but it's only been a couple days for me."

Robbie considered it, but shook his head after a moment. The man laughed.

"What were you doing?" Robbie asked. The man had reached out to pet Robbie on the head gently and he let him. It felt nice. It felt warm.

"Checking on things, preparing," the man said with another shrug. He shifted so that he could sit closer to Robbie and grinned. "Thinking of you."

Robbie felt his cheeks heat. He pressed his face into his knees and tried to ignore the man's chuckles. Fingers were running through his hair and he didn't want them to stop.

"Did you miss me?" The man asked.

Robbie lifted his head so he could see over his knees. The man was smiling softly at him, warmly. He was like the sun, sometimes.

"Yeah." It was true. He felt all sorts of warm and calm now. He really had missed him. The thought was frightening but in a good way. The past years Robbie had been having a hard time separating fear from pleasure but when the man was around, well, he figured they went hand in hand so it was okay to feel both. The tremble that came with fear was the same that came with pleasure, wasn't it? 

"T-they say..." Robbie stammered, unfolding himself some more so he could actually use his diaphragm. "They say you're bad. You can't be trusted."

The man gave him a puzzled look. Robbie formed his words in his head, spelled them out, felt them out, so he could say them out loud like he wanted to:

"I saw the journal."

He stared at the man defiantly. 

"Really," The man chuckled, he looked amused. He reached out and stroked Robbie's face, a touch Robbie couldn't help but lean into. "Do you agree with them? Am I someone who would do bad things?"

Robbie shot him an accusatory look at that, eyes narrowed. The man's face fell.

"That was a mistake, heat of the moment, you know that," The man practically purred, "You know I promised never to do it again, You know I wouldn't hurt you on purpose, not without good reason."

That shouldn't have sounded comforting, but it did. 

"And didn't I work to make it better? These past few years since I've been back, haven't I been trying to help you?" The man shifted again, even closer, so he could wrap his arms, warm and strong, around Robbie's shoulders.

"Yeah." Robbie whispered, because it was true. Because he was broken but he could've been much more broken... Because the man wasn't lying in the least, and remembering how much he'd helped made Robbie feel ashamed to think badly of him. Robbie curled closer to him, seeking his warmth.

"Is it close?" Robbie whispered. He could barely hear himself and he was worried the man didn't hear him; he was preoccupied with making tiny braids in Robbie’s hair, despite it being nearly too short to do so.

"Is what close?" The man asked distractedly, then, "Ah! No. Not yet. Although that reminds me..."

The man pulled away then, and scooted back far enough so that they were at least a foot apart. Robbie felt cold without his touch.

"Do you remember what I taught you?" The man asked. His face was serious all of a sudden. Robbie swallowed thickly, and nodded. 

"Everything?" The man asked, sounding extremely stern. Robbie nodded again, faster. He hated disappointing him.

"Good, because I need you to do something for me." The man said with a smile. This time it was neither warm nor gentle, but a cold, metallic smile that made Robbie shiver.

The man held out his right hand. Hesitantly, Robbie held out his own right hand. The man's smile grew, his eyes flickering between gold and red. 

"I need you to carry a message for me..."

The man gripped Robbie's hand with a grip like a vice, and cold white pain flared up his arm, past his elbow and shoulder, snaking its way to his very core.

Pain, Robbie decided, like fear, was another thing that was hard to separate from pleasure.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We begin in earnest! Writing Dipper after writing Bill is hard - humans! With their feelings! Pft!   
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Remember, you can always bug me at itsdetachable.tumblr.com and if you're on tumblr, you can check for updates and random story chatter by following the tag: ashadowonreality

Dipper Pines was twenty two and finally satisfied with his place in the world. 

It hadn't been easy to reach that point. He'd spent years fighting against his own mind, fending off thoughts of ineptitude and self-loathing, but he'd made it.

He'd realized, at some point, that what he wanted, and needed, wouldn't be found in the humdrum cycle of living that most of humanity in America found itself in. He didn't dream of earning a Master's of whatever line of learning was popular at the time, and the thought of having a house in the 'burbs with a white picket fence, a wife, and two and a half kids made him squeamish. It almost seemed preprogrammed, an inherited future, rather than one he chose for himself.

So he hadn't finished college, to the dismay of his parents, but he didn't need a piece of paper to prove his own intelligence. Besides, college had only been a cesspool of anxiety and toxic relationships for him; getting out was the best thing he had done. 

Getting out had also meant being away from Mabel for the first time in his life, and that had been something that took a while to get used to. She'd continued on through life her own way, attending an art college and majoring in fashion design. She was planning to open her own boutique of eccentric clothing and apparel in Portland, and there was already interest. Dipper, on the other hand, had settled into a quite different routine. He spent spring and fall traveling the states, working odd jobs so he could satisfy his need to investigate any and every oddity or curiosity he came upon. Most of the winters he'd spend divided between visiting his parents in California and visiting Mabel in Portland. His summers, however, always brought him back to the familiar sights and sounds of Gravity Falls.

That was where he'd found himself again, earlier this year than in previous ones. There weren't many tourists during late spring and the Mystery Shack ran on shortened hours, but that was fine. Dipper spent most of his time fixing things up around the shack, hanging out with his Grunkle Stan, and taking long hikes in the woods with his Gramps in search of anything new they could add to the journals. Lately they'd been tracking the migration of a tiny herd of deer from one end of the forest to the other. They were doing surprisingly well, despite being no larger than a house cat.

He'd woken up super early that morning, preparing himself to do a quick clean around the house. Mabel was coming down later that day for a week-long visit and he wanted the place to look, well, decent at least. Neither Grunkle Stan or Gramps was much into cleaning, and Dipper was usually too engrossed in new ideas or distracted by thoughts to give cleaning a serious effort.

Dipper added his empty cereal bowl to the cluttered sink and took a look around. The garbage was overflowing, there were layers of coffee rings on the kitchen table, and the floor needed a good mopping. Dipper didn't even want to think about the state of the other rooms - and he still had to clean out his attic room so Mabel would have a place to stay.

With a groan he trudged over to the garbage can and worked at getting the bag to close. He was about to heave it up when he heard a knock on the back door. Surprised, he glanced over at the clock on the wall - it was only 7:30 in the morning.

Leaving the bag, Dipper walked around it and went to open the door. He was surprised to find Robbie on the doorstep. Dipper hadn't seen him yet on this visit to Gravity Falls, and he let him in with a grin.

"Hey Robbie, how's it going?" He asked as he led the way back to the kitchen table. Honestly he was happy to see him - Robbie was one of the few remaining constants of Gravity Falls. Not that it was in a good way... Robbie'd only started talking again a couple years earlier, and still had trouble piecing together long sentences. For a very long time after the incident he'd had trouble sleeping, and as Dipper looked him over, he thought that insomnia might have returned. There were dark shadows under Robbie's eyes, and he looked just slightly out of it, as if he wasn't completely attached to the world. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days and it looked like he'd slept in the clothes he was wearing. On top of that was the fact that he hadn't responded vocally to Dipper's greeting. Dipper hoped Robbie wasn't having another relapse. He had been doing so well the last time Dipper had saw him.

"Everything okay?" Dipper asked hesitantly. He never quite entirely got used to the way Robbie was now, slightly flighty and fearful and silent.

Robbie shrugged, but he looked worried. He was playing fitfully with the cords of his hoodie, that same old hoodie he used to wear when he was a teen. Dipper figured he might need some time to settle down, so he gave the guy some room and busied himself with getting the coffee maker going. Coffee, he knew, would perk Robbie right up.

Indeed, once he turned back he found Robbie eyeing the coffee machine hopefully. Dipper grinned as he sat down at the table.

"Columbian dark roast, your favorite." Dipper said. Robbie grinned slightly at that, and signed "thanks".

Now that was even better, Dipper thought happily. He'd never gotten very good at sign language, and neither had Robbie, but they both had learned enough over the years to get by. 

"So, what's up?" Dipper asked, idly rubbing at one of the coffee rings on the table. Robbie fidgeted again, but this time he had an intense look of concentration on his face. He seemed to try to say something, but couldn't get it out.

"It’s all right dude," Dipper said. Robbie gave a frustrated sigh, and looked at him pointedly. "Gotcha, I'm paying attention."

First sign, Robbie pointed towards himself with his left hand and tapped his chest.

"I..." Dipper translated quietly.

Robbie breathed deeply - Dipper was surprised to see he had gone a bit pale - and signed again, fingers in a V shape, held in front of his face and then moved forward.

"See? No, saw! I saw..."

Robbie paused then, His hand shaking. Slowly and methodically, as if mentally preparing himself, he repeated the first two signs again.

I... Saw...

Robbie dropped his hands to the table, clasping them together. He looked both confused and scared.

"Hey, it's all right. What did you see?" Dipper asked in a soothing tone. Robbie looked at him helplessly, and slowly lifted his hands from the table top.

Fingers meeting in a point at the top, thumbs meeting to form a straight line across the bottom, his hands formed the shape of a triangle.

Dipper began laughing, but it was a cold, nervous laughter 

"What? No." He said, "Are you sure? Maybe it was just a nightmare, or something..."

Robbie nodded, he agreed with that line of thought, but he had gotten paler.

"Are you sure... It wasn't a nightmare?" Dipper asked hesitantly. 

Robbie but his lip, and slowly held out his right hand, palm facing Dipper. There, burned into his skin, was an equilateral triangle, inside which was burned a slit-pupiled eye. Angry red welts streaked down from it towards Robbie's wrist, mimicking a sun's rays.

Dipper felt he blood drain from his face, felt the hair on his head prickle.

"Okay," he said, "Okay. Are you still wearing the, the thing? The necklace?"

Wordlessly, Robbie unzipped his hoodie a bit, and pulled out a necklace of various claws and teeth and bones hung on a thick leather cord. Each of the objects on the cord was etched with a very specific rune, and all of them together should've guarded his dreams from a demon. Dipper and his Gramps had worked for three weeks straight on it, back when Robbie was at his worst, hoping it would ease his dreams and nerves somehow. It had seemed to work.

"And you haven't taken it off since we have it to you?" Dipper asked, licking suddenly dry lips.

Robbie nodded in affirmation. Dipper nodded as well, a nervous echo.

"Right, well. Gramps and Grunkle Stan should be up in a bit," Dipper said, standing up. The coffee was done. "And Mabel is going to be here later today, so maybe we can sit down and talk about it once everyone is here? What do you think?"

Robbie nodded enthusiastically. He seemed as wary of broaching the subject as Dipper, and there was no blaming him.

"While you're here," Dipper ventured as he poured coffee for them both and carried it to the table. "Mind helping me clean this place up a bit?"

Robbie shrugged noncommittally, absorbed in his coffee. Dipper sighed, and tried to think of a way to explain away what he'd just seen. He knew Robbie wasn't, to put it lightly, quite right anymore. Ever since he'd left the hospital he'd been scared of every shadow, every bump in the night. This could all very well be part of his delusions... but no matter what Dipper told himself, an inkling of wariness had rooted itself firmly in the back of his mind, a wariness he hadn't felt for a long time. 

There'd be time for that later. He forced his wild ranging thoughts to simmer down, and focused on his coffee. He had a sister-greet to prepare for.

 

* * *

 

Mabel flew in like a great rainbow colored bird, all glittery and shiny and so very MABEL. Dipper had just finished sweeping the living room when the front door opened and a very familiar voice called out 

"IIiiit's MABEL!"

Moments later he was attacked with a bear hug.

"You're here!" Dipper laughed, turning around and giving Mabel a huge hug back. He had finally outgrown her, but not by much, and with her bushy hair piled in an artful knot on her head she was taller than him once again. "It’s so great to see you sis!"

"Oh it's great to see you too broski!" Mabel grinned, hopping away and twisting right and left. "Wellll whaddya think?"

She had on purple sneakers, galactic tights, a super swishy skirt made of layers of purple, blue, and pink tulle, and a bright blue sweater with a shooting star leaving a sparkly rainbow trail stitched onto it.

"Looks great sis, definitely all you," Dipper laughed.

"Why thank you!" Mabel beamed. "I've got something for you too Dipper! I just have to unpack. But first, where are those lovable grumps of ours?" 

"Hate to remind you, Mabel, but you know Gompers has been dead a while and his kid didn't last long either..." Dipper said with a sad sigh.

"Dipper!" Mabel slapped him on the arm, laughing. 

"What’s with all the noise in here?" Grunkle Stan entered from the kitchen, "Can't you let an old man rest in peace and quiet?"

With a squeal Mabel launched herself onto him, and he hugged her back with a chuckle.

"All right, all right, that's enough," Grunkle Stan said grumpily after a moment, patting her head.

"Where's Gramps?" Mabel asked, but she didn't wait for an answer. With a giggle she bounced her way into the kitchen.

Dipper followed her so he could put the broom back in the supply closet. Mabel had found their Gramps in the kitchen and was busy hugging the life out of him. Dipper couldn't help but be happy; Mabel made everything better.

Suddenly she gasped, and bounded across the room again.

"Oh my gosh Robbie, you're here! How are you!" She squealed as she wrapped Robbie in a hug. He'd just come down the stairs; Dipper had asked him to clear some of the clutter from his room. 

He looked slightly uncomfortable, but somewhat happy. He had a soft spot for Mabel and she was one of the only people he let near enough to touch him most of the time.

"What are you doing here? Did you come to hang out? Oh, are you staying for dinner with us!" Mabel beamed when Robbie nodded.

Both Grunkle Stan and Gramps shot Dipper a questioning look - he hadn't exactly explained Robbie's presence in their house all that specifically. He grinned at them albeit a bit nervously.

"So, your bags! Let's get them inside." He said with a chuckle, and grabbing Mabel he dragged her back through the living room and the shop and out the front door.

"Dipper, what's going on?" Mabel asked once they were outside. Some of her cheer was gone - she looked as if she could tell something wasn't quite right.

"Look, Robbie's here for a reason," Dipper began. He wanted to tell her something, but the words caught in his throat. "Just... We'll explain after dinner."

"Is something wrong?" Mabel asked, concerned. 

"Maybe? Probably not..." Dipper laughed. "Probably. Well, come on, let's get your things inside and get dinner started. Can't wait to hear how your plans are shaping up!"

Mabel grinned, but there was a musing look on her eyes. She didn't argue, however, and instead launched into describing the preparations she was going through for her boutique.

Dinner was turkey tacos, followed by a fruit salad Gramps had whipped up. Grunkle Stan grumbled about wimpy health food but it was halfhearted at best. Everyone seemed to be in a cheery mood. Dipper had worried that Robbie might get overwhelmed at dinner, being surrounded by people and chatter, but he had settled down quite well, and seemed much calmer than before.

Once dinner was done, however, and the dishes were soaking in the sink, Mabel forced them all sit at the table, and the mood changed considerably.

"All right," She said, as sternly as she could. "What is going on?"

She shot that stern look at Dipper. Dipper looked at Robbie. Robbie shrank in his seat a bit and looked back at him.

"Come on, we know you two have something to say," Grunkle Stan said, eyeing them critically.

"All right, so..." Dipper cleared his throat. Robbie gave him an encouraging look, though he'd started fidgeting with his hoodie's drawstrings again. 

"So, Robbie... saw Bill." Dipper said. 

"What?" Mabel asked.

"Robbie saw Bill." Dipper repeated.

"Is that true?" Gramps asked, looking at Robbie. Robbie nodded, his fidgeting with the drawstrings growing more hectic. Gramps narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Are you sure it wasn't just a nightmare?"

Robbie shook his head vehemently, looking almost offended that Gramps would think that.

"You should show them." Dipper said encouragingly, motioning to Robbie. "You know."

Everyone was looking at Robbie now, and it was apparent that the attention had gotten to be a bit too much for him. He shrunk down in his chair, grasping the drawstrings in shaking hands. At Dipper's encouraging look, however, he mustered up the courage to pull his sleeve down from his left hand and hold it out for them all to see.

The branded mark was still there, and Dipper found himself breathing a sigh. He wasn't sure he should be relieved, however. If it hadn't been there, he could've told himself that it had all been some weird hallucination. Now that he saw it again, and from the looks on the faces of the others they saw it too, he was filled with a sense of foreboding. What if Bill really was back?

"Have you been wearing the runes?" Gramps asked. Robbie nodded, and hurriedly extracted the string of claws and bones from beneath his hoodie.

Gramps muttered something under his breath, then turned to Grunkle Stan. Grunkle Stan looked mighty irritated, as if he'd thought he'd left this supernatural demon nonsense well behind him and didn't agree with it coming back into his life. He met Gramps's eyes, however, and a look of understanding passed between them. Grunkle Stan rose from his seat with a groan, rubbing his back.

"Yeah, I gotcha. I'll get the extra sheets and pillows..." He said, heading towards the stairs. Dipper and Mabel shared a puzzled look, but Gramps spoke before they could say anything.

"You're staying here tonight, kid," Gramps said to Robbie. Robbie looked positively queasy at the thought, but Gramps continued. "If Bill is back, you'll be safer here. We have wards and sigils and multiple runes working to keep demonic entities out, stronger ones than before. Even if he got through them somehow, we'd get warning of it."

"That’s a good idea," Mabel said, sounding cheerful. "We can make a night of it! Popcorn and old movies and I can show you all the presents I made you!"

Robbie still looked uncomfortable, and Dipper couldn't blame him. The break of routine and unfamiliar surroundings were no doubt making him anxious.

"It'll be all right," Dipper said with a grin. Robbie didn't look convinced.

 

The alarm clock on the desk showed thirteen minutes after one in the morning when Dipper looked at it. He'd been woken by something, but he didn't know what. Yawning, he stretched and sat up in bed. There was no moon that night, and the shadows were deep in the room. 

"Mabel?" He whispered, wondering if maybe she had stirred in her sleep and woke him.

"Hnnn?" Mabel groaned sleepily and rolled to face him. 

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," Dipper said.

"I was already awake," Mabel yawned and raised herself on her arms. 

"Something woke you up too?" Dipper asked 

"Yeah." Mabel said. For a moment there was silence, then the sound of a bed creaking. "All right, you know what this means?"

"Slightly past midnight snack party?" 

"Bro, you read my mind!" Mabel giggled. 

They headed downstairs to the kitchen, ready to ransack the cabinets.

"Should we ask Robbie if he wants a snack?" Mabel asked, and then answered herself, "Why not, he's probably not asleep anyway."

She headed into the living room while Dipper turned into the kitchen, but after a moment she called his name.

"What?" Dipper asked as he entered the living room.

"He's not here!" Mabel said, and Dipper saw that indeed the pull out couch was empty. Mabel turned to him with worry in her eyes. "You don't think he snuck out, do you?"

"Maybe. I mean, he's fine here in the day, but let's face it, the shack is kind of spooky at night." Dipper said with a shrug. He headed towards the shop; if Robbie had left then the front door would be open, since he didn't have a key. Curiously, he found it was still locked shut. Dipper frowned thoughtfully.

"Ohhh..." Mabel let out a worried sound behind him, and he turned to find her looking at the side of the vending machine. "Oh, uh, this doesn't HAVE to mean something bad, right?"

Mabel had a shaky grin on her face. Dipper was about to ask what she was talking about, but she already had a hand on the vending machine. With a slight push, she swung it open.

Dipper stared at it, dumbfounded. That was NOT supposed to happen, there were multiple locks on it, blocking the entrance to the stairs behind. After the incident with Bill, they had reinforced the security to those stairs.

"It doesn't have to." Dipper said, though he wasn't able to keep his voice from coming out in a squeak.

"If he's down there, Dipper... We need to make sure he's all right! We never told him about the portal, it might be too much for him to take in!" Mabel grabbed Dipper's arm and tugged him towards the stairs. Dipper didn't resist. Maybe he would've, but at the moment he was going to, a slight rumble shook the floor beneath their feet.

"That's what woke me up!" Dipper and Mabel exclaimed in unison. Without another word they hurried down the steps.

The lower they got, the more light there was to see with. At the bottom they could feel a pitiful wind tugging at them, and they burst into the control room to find the portal shining in all its glory.

For a moment they stood, bathed in blazing light, but then it flickered, and the portal seemed to reverse, the light seemed to grow shadowed. It sputtered brighter a few times, then with a rumble the light blinked out. 

The emergency lights ringing the ceiling of the portal room were on, and once Dipper had blinked most of the light dots out of his eyes, he could see a figure sitting on the ground in front of the portal.

"Robbie," Mabel said. Dipper was already running out the door and into the portal room.   
Robbie sat a few yards in front of the portal, and as Dipper neared he could see that he was rubbing his right hand on the ground.

"Robbie?" Dipper asked warily as he neared. No response. Dipper tried again, "Robbie, you okay? What're you doing down here..."

Dipper stepped around the seated man, and found that a triangular area in front if him was crisscrossed with markings that glistened wetly in the red emergency lights.

Robbie looked up finally then, but it was only to shoot Dipper an extremely dirty look.

"Dude, are you okay?" Dipper asked, taken aback. 

Robbie didn't respond, but returned to rubbing his hand across the markings on the floor. Dipper could hear movement back in the control room, but he didn't pay it attention. He was trying to make sense of the symbols on the floor, symbols that Robbie was deliberately smudging, a look if disappointment in his face.

"Hey Robbie, why don't we go upstairs?" Mabel said, approaching them. She put her hands on Robbie's shoulders, but the man jerked away violently. After a moment he seemed to realize it was Mabel, and he looked up at her with an apologetic look, signing "sorry".

"It's all right," Mabel said, smiling. "Come on, I was going to get some snacks. Want some?"

Robbie gave the smudged floor a long look, but he stood and followed Mabel back to the stairs.

Dipper watched them go, but quickly turned his attention to the floor. He crouched down in an attempt to see better. Some symbols were still visible, though he couldn't quite place them. Enochian? He couldn't be sure.

Footsteps neared him, and Dipper looked up to see that both Gramps and Grunkle Stan had walked over to him. They wore identical grim looks.

"What happened? Did the portal open?" Dipper asked.

"Nah, it made a pretty light show but it didn't have enough juice." Twinkle Stan replied. "The sensors didn't pick up any extraplanar readings, either."

"Why was he trying to open a portal?" Dipper asked out loud. He couldn't fathom.

"That's something we need to seriously talk about." Gramps said. He crouched down and ran a finger through one of the lines on the floor, rubbed his fingers together. "Blood magic."

"What?!" Dipper asked, shocked. He looked back at the floor, and now he could tell it was blood. He had thought the reddish tint was from the emergency lights.

"Where'd Robbie learn to use blood magic?" Dipper mused. He'd run into it on his travels, usually in instances where people had few other resources for casting spells. Blood magic could be powerful, but it was crude and simple. 

"That’s something we're going to have to find out." Gramps said, rising with a sigh. "Now let's get back upstairs and make sure Robbie doesn't go anywhere, at least not yet."

"All right," Dipper said. He couldn't help but throw a look back at the portal as they walked back to the stairs. It stood silent and dark. That tiny bit of wariness in the back of his mind picked up a stick and poked him with it. Despite it all, he couldn't feel anything out of the ordinary. Maybe, just maybe, this time it really was the paranoid part of his mind overreacting. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy! Oh boy oh boy oh boy! I really want pizza...  
> Anyways, there are hints in this chapter. Well, there is a GIMONGOUS wink-wink-nudge-nudge but other than that there are HINTS.
> 
> I'd love to hear if any of you are anticipating something...
> 
> remember, hit me up itsdetachable.tumblr.com

According to Mabel, Robbie had passed out the moment they reached the living room, collapsing onto the pull out couch. She'd bandaged his hand - he'd cut along the lines of the brand on his right palm to get the blood for his magic - and they'd let him sleep through the night since they couldn't get him up again.

He didn't wake until the morning, but he seemed dazed and disoriented, puzzled by the injury to his hand, and when they asked him about the portal and the magic he looked utterly lost, and called them crazy. Gramps had attempted to interrogate him further, convinced the guy was holding something back, but that only resulted in Robbie having a panic attack and hiding in the supply closet. 

A couple of weeks had passed since then, completely uneventful and ordinary weeks, and Dipper was beginning to believe that nothing strange was going on. Both Mabel and Dipper had taken to visiting Robbie daily over the first week, but it had soon become obvious that Robbie had no clue what had happened that night. Eventually things fell back into their regular routine, and soon the day Mabel would leave crept up on them.

Dipper was torn about her leaving; he'd had to share his room again, which honestly irked him a little. As much as they loved each other, their interests still clashed somewhat. On the other hand, he'd had great fun the past weeks too. Over the past few years he'd had little time to spend with Mabel, usually only a week or two a year, with a few days scattered inbetween, depending on where he was in his travels. Being together with his twin again had been great.

All things come to an end, eventually. He sighed as he loaded the last of Mabel's suitcases into the trunk of her coupe. 

"Dipper!" Mabel dashed out of the house, a frantic look on her face. 

"Yeah?" Dipper asked, slightly worried. 

"Candy just called, you are NOT going to believe this!" Mabel took a deep breath. "Our apartment is infested!"

"Your apartment? With what?" Dipper asked.

"And the building! With bedbugs!" Mabel said. "There weren't any when I left, how'd they multiply so fast?"

"Oh, ew bed bugs are horrible," Dipper said with a shudder. He'd stayed in a B&B with a bed bug problem once; he hadn't been able to get rid of the red welts for weeks after.

"They're having everyone leave the building so they can go through the whole bed bug removal process with the spraying and the bug bombs. It's going to take another week or two," Mabel said with a sigh, but then grinned. "So it looks like you're going to have to deal with me a little longer!"

"Oh the horror!" Dipper responded with a laugh. "Are your things for the shop going to be okay, though?"

"Yeah, I had most of it in my studio, and some of the rest here with me, so they're not going to get all funky and stinky," Mabel said. She put her hands on her hips and looked at the bags and suitcases that they had shoved into her trunk. "Well, I guess these are going back!"

She yanked out one of her bags and headed back towards the shack. Dipper sighed; even though he was happy Mabel was staying, he was none too happy about carrying her things back up to the attic room. She did not pack light.

He heaved up the suitcase he had just put into the trunk, and turned to head towards the shack.

"Excuse me?" An unfamiliar voice sounded from somewhere behind him. Dipper turned to face whoever it was that spoke, but as he did the suitcase handle slipped out of his hand, and the suitcase itself fell straight onto his foot. He cursed loudly - what had Mabel packed? Lead bars?! 

"Sorry!" He yelped when he heard laughter and remembered he wasn't alone. He spun back to face the person.

"It's okay," the stranger said.

"Uh, did you need something?" Dipper asked, looking at the them finally.

A guy stood a few feet away, smiling amiably. He was about the same height as Dipper, with a slightly heavier build than him. He was dark skinned, with black hair that framed his head in a disorganized cloud of curls. His eyes, Dipper noticed, were a curious honey-amber.

"I hope so," the guy said with a cheerful grin. "I'm an ecology student and I've been researching populations of Douglas Squirrels in the Pacific Northwest, and Gravity Falls is my next stop for research."

"Oh, wow," Dipper said, noting the bag the guy had slung over his shoulder. Oddly enough, despite a plethora of unusual and uncommon creatures, he couldn't remember any previous ecologists coming to Gravity Falls for research. "Not sure how I can help with that."

The man chuckled. 

"I just wanted to ask if you knew where the old quarry was located? Some locals said squirrels had made homes in the trees surrounding it. I got directions from an old man back in town, but honestly they weren't exactly... coherent," the guy said, giving him a helpless look. Dipper could imagine just what old man was giving incoherent directions; he had to grin at the thought.

"Oh, yeah, the quarry is back in the woods, about a fifteen minute walk northwest of here," Dipper said, pointing in the general direction. He found his eyes lingering on the man; there was something about him that piqued Dipper's interest, but he couldn't quite put a finger on what it was.

"Ah, thank you!" The man said, and then held out a hand. "I probably should've introduced myself. Zoser, Zoser Khalid."

"Dipper Pines," Dipper grasped his hand. Zoster's hand was strangely warm. "Are you going to be in the area long?"

"A few months?" Zoster grinned, his amber eyes twinkling. "It depends on how long my project takes to complete."

"Well, you're welcome to come by the shack if you need any help, or anything." Dipper said. He was being awfully helpful, but he was honestly intrigued by the guy.

"I think I will," Zoser replied.

His tone sent a shudder down Dipper's spine, but it wasn't an entirely unpleasant one. Slightly perturbed by the feeling, mostly because it was confusing, Dipper watch as Zoser headed off in the direction he'd steered him.

"Oh my gosh who was that?" A voice whispered suddenly from right next to him. Dipper jerked away only to find Mabel next to him. She grinned at him widely. 

"Some ecology student studying squirrels or something," Dipper responded, hefting the suitcase back up again.

"Ah yes, the squirrels," Mabel nodded sagely, but her grin was mischievous.

"Mabel, please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking," Dipper groaned as he headed back to the shack.

"Brother dearest, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Mabel responded. Dipper rolled his eyes and headed inside.

It took a good forty five minutes to haul Mabel's things back up to the attic room. Weary and tired and way too overheated, Dipper headed to the kitchen to get something to drink. He was about to sit down at the table when the phone rang. Annoyed, he let it ring, but after the fifth ring it became obvious no one else was going to pick up, and with a groan he trudged over to the phone and answered.

"Mystery Shack," He sighed.

"Dipper? Is that you?" A woman's voice snapped over the phone.

"Yeah, it’s me," Dipper responded, for a moment unable to place the very familiar voice on the line.

"It's Pacifica." 

Ah, there we go. Dipper should've been able to recognize her voice. 

"There's going to be a car at your door in five minutes to take you to my parents house." Pacifica continued, sounding harried.

"Wait, what? Why?" Dipper was not looking forward to a visit at the Northwest's mansion. He hadn't set foot in it since that ill fated party YEARS before.

"I don't have the time to explain on the phone," Pacifica said with a sigh. She continued in a whisper, "Besides, you need to see this yourself."

"Okay," Dipper said finally, intrigued and a bit worried. "I'll be ready."

"Thank you," Pacifica said, and she sounded grateful. 

The car was there in five minutes, as promised. Dipper barely had enough time to shout up the stairs that he was heading out for a bit before it showed up. The drive to the mansion was short, which was all the better because Dipper never knew how to make small talk with chauffeurs.

Pacifica was waiting at the front door, looking stylishly impatient. She'd put on a little weight over the years, becoming curvaceous in a way that had attracted Dipper's interest at one point in time. Dipper had the unfortunate type of mindset that tended to rehash old failed flames, but Pacifica had moved on in life without looking back. Dipper appreciated it; it made it easier for him to move on as well, which meant that now, years later, he could show up at her doorstep and receive a welcoming hug from her without feeling uncomfortable in the least.

"Thanks for coming, I mean it," Pacifica said as she walked him inside.

"I didn't have a choice, did I?" Dipper laughed.

"Oh Dipper," Pacifica said with a tight smile. "You didn't have to get in the car."

"Huh," Dipper realized that was true. 

"Come on, I want to show you this before my parents come back from their meeting," Pacifica said, leading him through the house. She strode with hurried, even steps, leading him through the house to the back, and up a staircase. They passed doorway after doorway, until Pacifica stopped finally at the end of a hallway. The door there was set back in an alcove. Looking around as if worried they'd been followed, Pacifica pulled out a key and unlocked the door.

"In here," She said quietly, and led Dipper inside. Once they were both in, she shut the door behind them. The room was dark, there were absolutely no windows whatsoever, but after a moment bright light flooded the room from an overhead lamp. Dipper could see they were in some type of storage area; boxes were stacked along one wall, and antique cabinets were set up along the other. Paintings were leaned against cabinets, and other objects of indiscriminate shape were set here and there.

"Here, in back," Pacifica’s voice took on a worried tone, and she was beginning to look frazzled. "I came in here looking for an old family heirloom, but when I saw... Well, I knew I had to call you."

Dipper was getting more and more interested with every passing moment. His thirst for adventure never really left him when he settled down for the few months each year in Gravity Falls, and this incident was beginning to reawaken it fiercely. What was Pacifica so worried about? Was it a cursed object? Dipper was still worried, but now burning curiosity was brushing that worry aside. He followed Pacifica among the maze of old objects eagerly, nearly clipping her heels.

"Here," Pacifica said finally. The shadows were deep on the far end of the room but there was an LED strip light hung on the near wall. Pacifica turned it on, and stepped back so Dipper could take a good look.

On the wall before him hung the tapestry he had seen only once before, during that poltergeist infested party when he was twelve. It looked no different than before - foreboding colors, a dark one eyed triangle hanging above prostrate human forms which bowed upon earth littered with bones and skulls, surrounded by blood red flames. For a moment Dipper couldn't understand what had Pacifica so distraught. In fact, he was slightly disappointed. Sure, the timing was somewhat distressing, that he be shown the tapestry so soon after Robbie's supposed meeting with Bill, but he didn't note anything out of the ordinary about the tapestry.

Not at first, at least. Then it struck him - The bottom edges of the tapestry gleamed wetly in the light. A thick, syrupy drop of liquid gathered at the point at the bottom of the tapestry and fell to the floor. On the floor itself a dark puddle had already formed beneath the tapestry.

Slowly, Dipper approached and crouched down next to the puddle. The liquid was thick, and red, and the strong smell of copper hit him as soon as he was near. The outer edges of the puddle were congealing to a dark blackish red. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and dabbled two fingers in the puddle. They came away covered with sticky red.

"Is it what I think it is?" Pacifica asked, sounding queasy. Dipper looked up at the tapestry, and this time that dark triangle with its red eye seemed awfully foreboding.

"I'm going to need to do some research," Dipper said, rising to his feet. He looked at Pacifica, "Try to keep anyone from coming in here, okay?"

"Yeah," Pacifica agreed. Wordlessly they left the room, Pacifica locking it behind them. Dipper's thought roiled in his head as he said his good byes to Pacifica. The implications of the tapestry... He shook his head as he got in the car that waited for him. It could be cursed or possessed or enchanted, and none of it had to have anything to do with Bill. Besides, they'd never really agreed on the triangular figure on the tapestry being Bill. Besides the shape and the eye, there were no other recognizable features, and for all Dipper knew there could be other triangle demons in the various planes. Bill was iconic, yes, but that didn't mean he had to be completely and wholly unique among demons.

Dipper exited the car quickly once they reached the shack, thanking the driver. He headed into the shack, steering towards the bathroom.

He'd been in such a thought-daze that he'd forgotten to wash his hand at Pacifica's house, and had to wipe it off on his shirt in the car. With a sigh, he turned on the tap and lifted his hands.

They were clean.

He blinked, squinted, turned them over and inspected them closely, but there was not a trace of blood-colored liquid anywhere on them. Confused, he checked his shirt and pants, but the streaks his hand had left had disappeared as well.  
Had he been so distracted he hadn't remembered washing his hands at Pacifica's? Possibly. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was not quite right. He turned the tap off, and left the bathroom.

He headed upstairs in a hurry, eager to look through the books and manuscripts he'd collected over the years. He'd even begun keeping a journal similar to his Gramps's, with notes on various oddities he'd encountered across the states. Maybe he'd be able to find an answer, or at least a hint, to this most recent occurrence among them.

Once in his room, he began paging through the books, looking up haunted objects and poltergeists and demonic possession. He supplemented his reading with internet searches, pulling up the most recent news about objects weeping blood. Sure enough, there were plenty, but most of them were religious icons. Even among the information about poltergeists and possessions, no two accounts were similar. The most he could get out if it all was that blood, or blood-like fluid, dripping out of objects was a sign of the supernatural. That was the only constant.

Hours later, Dipper finally decided to take a break. His eyes burned and he was both horribly thirsty and hungry. With a groan, he got up from his desk chair and stretched out his aching limbs. He'd been sitting for way too long.

Definitely way too long - looking around Dipper realized that the sun was no longer shining in his window. The sky outside was a deep blue, painted with oranges and reds where the sun was setting.

Scratching his head, he headed downstairs. Grunkle Stan and Gramps we're in the living room, and they called out to him when he appeared.

"You missed dinner, kid," Grunkle Stan said, sparing a glance from the TV. They were watching one of those new obstacle course game shows. This one had people racing over inflated animals in a pool as the other contestants fired water cannons at them.

"What have you been working on that has you so distracted?" Gramps asked, eyeing him curiously. "You're not still worried about that nightmare of Robbie's, are you?"

"No," Dipper chuckled. "I just remembered something from one of my trips and got way too into reading about it."

"No kidding," Grunkle Stan said, "Mabel went up to get you but she said you barely noticed she was there."

"Really?" Dipper was puzzled. He could swear Mabel hadn't come up to the room…

"Mabel and Robbie are finishing up the pizza in the kitchen," Gramps said, and grinned. "They might share if you ask nicely enough."

The twin men laughed at that, and with a chuckle Dipper left them and headed to the kitchen.

Indeed, Mabel and Robbie were at the table, a nearly finished extra large pizza sitting between them. Mabel had found one of her old sweaters from when she was a kid in the upstairs closet while staying at the shack, and she was wearing it, as she had designated it her official at-home sweater. It was a mix of fuchsia and blue yarn with LED lights sewed a silver embroidery lion on the front. The LEDs were on, twinkling on and off as Mabel regaled Robbie with one of her numerous stories about life in an art college’s dorm. Robbie, Dipper wasn't surprised to see, was dressed in the new hoodie that Mabel had gifted him with. Sewed by her own two hands, she said. It was definitely more stylish than his old hoodie, and featured both removable hood AND sleeves. On the front was embroidered the same stitched-heart design as on his old one. The guy practically lived in the new hoodie now, much to Mabel's delight. 

Dipper tried to sneak in without disturbing them, but Mabel noticed him as soon as he stepped foot in the room, and waved him over.

"Dipper! There's still pizza left, you made it," Mabel laughed. "We were totally going to eat it all if you didn't show up."

"Haha, yeah I bet you were." Dipper took a seat at the table, "Hey Robbie, how's it going?"

Robbie shrugged, but the look he gave Dipper was a bit cold. Just a bit. Dipper couldn't figure out what was going on; ever since Robbie had attempted to open the portal, and promptly forgot about it, there were these moments where he shot Dipper nasty looks. It was horribly confusing, considering they'd been on generally good terms until then.

"Mabel! That burly boy from Connecticut that you always drool over is up next!" Grunkle Stan called from the living room. Mabel's eyes lit up, and she hopped out of her seat.

"Sorry boys, but I'll be riiiiiight back." With a giggle she headed off.

For a moment Dipper and Robbie sat there in silence, staring at each other. Dipper was very, very hungry and the pizza was tempting but Robbie was still giving him this... disdainful look that Dipper didn't think he'd earned.

"Robbie, did I do something wrong, or something?" Dipper asked finally, breaking the silence.

Robbie looked away, then back to him, and signed "what?" with a raised eyebrow.

"I dunno, you just seem kind of, mad at me or something lately." Dipper said. Robbie's face fell a bit, and Dipper continued, "I mean, if I did something that hurt you or pissed you off, I'm really sorry, you know? I just wish I knew what it was so I wouldn't do it again..."

Robbie looked away for a long moment, and when he looked back his expression was apologetic. He shook his head and signed "worry" - don't worry. 

"No I mean, you can tell me if I-" Dipper began, but Robbie shook his head harder. "It's not me, okay, I get it."

Robbie breathed a slightly dejected sigh, and looked down at the half eaten piece of pizza on his plate. Dipper tallied up the remaining pieces - four, and one of them was the tiny corner piece. He eyed the piece of pizza on Robbies plate hopefully.

"You gonna eat that?" He asked. Robbie looked at him with disgust. Dipper rolled his eyes, he'd eaten way grosser food on his travels, "I know, eww, cooties or germs or whatever, I'm kind of starving over here."

Robbie actually chuckled at that, and slid his plate over to Dipper. Happily scooping the rest of the pizza pieces onto his plate, Dipper dug in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO YOU EVER GIVE A CHARACTER AN ALIAS AND YOU JUST GO 'WHATEVER I'LL CHANGE IT LATER WHEN I'M DONE WITH THE CHAPTER' BECAUSE YOU WANT IT TO HAVE MEANING BUT YOU CAN'T CHECK IT AT THE TIME AND THEN YOU GO BACK AND CHECK THE NAME YOU GIVE THEM AND IT FITS MORE PERFECTLY THAN IT EVER COULD HAVE AND YOU JUST PRAISE YOUR BRAIN


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry about the later-than-usual update, much stressful life stuff had been happening.  
> Anyways - onward friends! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> If you were wondering what Carter from The Three Point Plan and Zoser from this story look like, look no further! I am not the best at drawing humans but it's good enough: http://itsdetachable.tumblr.com/post/117970788913/in-case-you-were-having-issues-visualizing-bill-in
> 
> Remember you can bug me anytime at http://itsdetachable.tumblr.com

The first thing Dipper did when he woke up was call Pacifica. It was nine in the morning and he called her cell number directly, hoping she hadn't changed it recently. She answered after the second ring.

"Dipper?" She asked, sounding surprised.

"Hey Pacifica," He said. "Listen, I wanted ask you about that tapestry..."

"Oh, that," Pacifica said, as if she was having trouble remembering the incident,  "I was going to call you about it."

"Yeah?" He asked, slightly put off by her relaxed tone.

"Yes, so, it turns out there as a leak in the roof. Water had been gathering in the ceiling above the tapestry, and it finally trickled down the wall into the tapestry," Pacifica continued, sounding absolutely unperturbed. "Apparently there were some iron nails in the ceiling beams that rusted from the water, that's why the water dripping to the floor was red."

Something wasn't adding up. Something wasn't quite making sense. Red tinted water? Dipper could admit rusty nails could've attributed to the metallic smell, but... That would have needed a lot of rusty nails. Besides, the stickiness of the liquid, the syrupy texture, the way the puddle dried black around the edges, all were absolutely unnerving and not at all something you'd expect from a puddle of rusty water. 

"Are, are you sure?" Dipper asked, unconvinced.

"We had a handyman come in this morning, he drained the water from the ceiling." Pacifica answered with a sigh, sounding somewhat distracted. "So there's no need to worry your pretty little head, okay Dipper?"

"Uh, yeah," Dipper responded. "Okay."

"Thank you, though, for checking in," Pacifica said, "I appreciate it. Take care of yourself Dipper."

Dipper hung up and stared at the phone for a while. Pacifica's explanation made... Well, it made some sense. Enough sense that any regular non-supernaturally affected human would dismiss it as truth. Dipper wasn't able to do so, not easily. He remembered the smell, the feel, of the liquid dripping from the tapestry, and if it hadn't been blood it would've been something very similar to it, but not water, not red tinted rusty water.

Looking down at his hands, he remembered how the stains had disappeared. He still was unsure how it had happened - had he washed them at Pacifica's? Honestly, the time between leaving the storage room and reaching the shack again was muddied in his mind. He couldn't accurately remember what he'd done. It was unnerving.   
With a sigh, he headed downstairs to get ready for work.

 

 

Most of the day Dipper spent at the counter in the Mystery Shack's shop, paging through an old book he'd found on his travels. It was written in a rarely used (western Asian language) dialect that he had a very difficult time deciphering. He filled page after page in a notebook in his attempt to clarify the text for himself.

There were barely any customers throughout the day. Gramps had headed out back to tend to his garden of rare plants, while Grunkle Stan spent his free time fixing up new items to hawk to visitors. Mabel eventually got tired of the aching boredom and left around midday to get them lunch. 

Two hours later she returned grinning widely, a gaggle of people following her in through the door, each carrying a bag from the diner.

"I brought back lunch!" Mabel giggled, then added, "And a little extra."

Dipper watched in growing confusion as everyone filed past; Candy and Grenda were first (apparently Candy had come back home to wait out the bed bug fiasco), followed by a couple of Mabel's acquaintances whose names Dipper had never committed to memory, followed by Wendy and Tambry (that was a surprise). Lee and Nate had even showed up, Dipper hadn't seen them in a few years. Bringing up the end was the guy from the day before, Zoser, carrying a bag from the diner as well. He met Dipper's eye and grinned widely.

"Your sister can be pretty convincing," Zoser said with a laugh.

"Trust me, I know," Dipper said. He closed the book over his notebook to mark his place, and followed the group back to the kitchen. 

Mashed potatoes, potato salad, red bean salad, regular salad, roast chicken, roast beef, pork tenderloin steaks, green bean casserole, mac and cheese... It looked like Mabel had cleared the diner out of e everything they had.

"I know, it's more like dinner food than lunch food," Mabel said.

"Not complaining, Mabes," Lee said happily, already piling mac and cheese on a paper plate. It was controlled chaos as everyone grabbed at the paper plates and plastic utensils and piled on the food, taking seats around the house to eat.

Dipper managed to grab the last bit of roast beef and piled high the mashed potatoes and mac. He eventually found a seat on the couch next to Wendy and Tambry.

"I didn't know you two were back in town," Dipper said as he got down to eating.

"Visiting the ' rents, you know," Tambry said with a shrug. She was sitting cross legged, her plate on her knees, one hand holding a fork, the other her phone. She was employed at a booming social media site and part of her job required long hours on the internet. 

"Gotta find time for the family you know how that goes," Wendy added with a grin. She'd just spent seven months tracking wolverines in Montana's Glacier National Park. "Get to relax a couple months and then I gotta zoom back to my furry babies."

"Literal furry babies this year," Tambry added. Dipper looked at Wendy, and she laughed.

"My favorite female had cubs," She explained.

"So," Tambry said suddenly, seeing Dipper about to speak and apparently wanting to stop the conversation before it began. She lay her phone on the couch arm rest and turned her full attention to him. "Who is the new guy."

"The new guy?" Dipper asked, confused. There were a few of them, at least to him.

"That new guy that your sister is cornering by the bookcase." Tambry said pointedly.

Dipper turned to see that Mabel had indeed cornered somebody by the bookcase; Zoser, although he seemed to be enjoying their conversation, as he was talking animatedly with her, practically matching her energy.

"He doesn't really look cornered," Dipper said. Wendy laughed.

"All right, the guy your sister is CONVERSING WITH by the book case," Tambry said, rolling her eyes.

"Some guy, his name is Zoser?" Dipper shrugged. "Said he's here to study squirrels."

"Another ecologist!" Tambry said with a snort. "You should absolutely go talk to him about the animals, Wendy."

The girls laughed. Dipper eyed Mabel and Zoser, they did seem to be getting along quite well. Their chatter was animated and energetic; apparently they were discussing some exciting things, there was a lot of hand gestures and laughter involved. 

Dipper ate methodically, surprised to find within himself a tiny shred of envy. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been a bit jealous of Mabel but it still was annoying. He thought he'd grown out of it, plenty of fish in the sea, yadda yaddda...

Zoser caught Dipper looking at them and flashed him a cheery grin. Dipper grinned back awkwardly. He was intrigued by the guy, and he had to admit it, a bit attracted to him as well. Those honey-amber colored eyes were killers. Dipper shoved more mac and cheese on his mouth, trying to distract himself. He failed. He didn't know what was so interesting about Zoser; maybe his energy, his boldness? He talked with Mabel as if he'd known her for years. Dipper wished he could be that bold and outgoing. He usually ended up sorely awkward and embarrassed at first meetings. 

With an internal sigh he reminded himself of the Golden Rule of Sibling Romance : Thou shalt not want what the other sibling is having; before, during, nor after. No matter how freaking charismatic a grin and pretty amber eyes the person in question had.

"All right, kiddo, outta my seat."

Dipper looked up to see Grunkle Stan, plate piled with food in hand, giving him a grumpy look.

"Yeah I guess you do need to rest your weary old bones," Dipper said with a wry grin, getting up.

"You bet I do!" Grunkle Stan said, purposely grumping up his voice as he sat down and playing out the part, "Young whippersnappers, no respect for their elders, I tell ya..."

Dipper headed back to the kitchen, grinning as he heard Grunkle Stan start asking Wendy about her conservation job in Montana. He might act like an irredeemable grump but she might've been another great niece for him. He was a total softie at heart.

"Hey bro, heading back for seconds?" Mabel suddenly appeared next to him in the kitchen.

"Nah, I think I'm stuffed." Dipper said. He tossed his plate in the trash and turned to face Mabel. She was happily loading more roast chicken and potato salad onto her plate.

"So... You seem to be getting along with that Zoser guy pretty well," Dippper began, feeling awkward and stupid to bring it up.

"Yeah, he's a total cutie." Mabel giggled cheerfully. "And he just knows so much about those squirrels, Dipper! And he listens when I talk and he has the cutest little dimple in his left cheek when he grins..."

"So he's pretty dreamy, huh?" Dipper laughed. It was an awkward laugh. Mabel gave him a look, a LOOK, and though she was still grinning, it had turned mischievous.  
She sidled up next to him.

"Dipper," She spoke in a conspiratory whisper. "Do you think he's dreamy too?"

"What? No," Dipper said, and he thought it was honest. The guy was attractive, but he wasn't exactly daydreaming about being swept up in his arms or anything. "He's just, interesting, I guess."

"Hm," Mabel nodded her head, and then slapped him in the arm, hard. "You should've said something!"

"Mabel, ow?" Dipper backed away to keep her from hitting him again.

"Dippeerrrr, you know me, I pounce! I see someone adorable and I just- " Mabel made little pawing motions in the air as she whispered at him, like a cat jumping a mouse or something. "You should've told me you might be interested..."

Dipper was amazed by Mabel's ability to whisper in such a fierce tone.

"I didn't know if I might be," Dipper whispered back. "I still don't know!"

"Well then you need to find out, silly!" Mabel laughed.

Dipper would have made a distraught whale noise, but someone entered the kitchen at that moment. The twins turned to find Gramps walking up to them, Zoser trailing behind him with a slightly wary look on his face. Was it a wary look? Dipper actually couldn't tell, because a moment later Zoser was grinning easily.

"Hey kids," Gramps said, "Your friend here says he's interested in the squirrels around here, so I thought you could show him the ones that keep raiding my garden. Maybe he could think up a way I keep them out of it."

"Ohh, that's a great idea!" Mabel exclaimed, and pushed Dipper forward. "Dipper, you should absolutely show him where the squirrels are, since you know better than I do."

I do? Dipper thought in distress. He turned to Mabel, and she winked at him, grinning widely. 

"Uh, yeah, I can show you their... Tree or nest or, you know..." Dipper said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"That'd be great," Zoser said, smiling warmly.

"Right, come on," Dipper led the way out the kitchen door.

A few yards behind the shack, Gramps had his garden. He'd cleared the land and set it up years back not long after returning through the portal. After all the time that had passed, Dipper still had no clue what Gramps had been through beyond the portal. He wouldn't talk about it, but ever since getting back he'd been focused on natural and ancient magicks. The garden was part of that, a collection of plants from around the world that held some sort of magickal or alchemical qualities Gramps felt were important. Most of them shouldn't be able to thrive in the Oregon climate but Gramps had rigged multiple ruins and sigils that aided the plant's growth.

The wildlife of Gravity Falls had no idea how important they were, however, and attempted to eat the unusual plants whenever the opportunity arose. That included the Douglas Squirrels, which would raid the garden for bulbs or seeds to eat. It included the miniature deer as well; Dipper realized with a start that a herd of the tiny cervids was in the garden as they approached, nibbling on the leaves of a flowering amaranth. They heard them, however, and quickly ducked into the cover of a nearby henbane bush. Dipper shot a look at Zoser, but he hadn't seemed to notice.

"Gramps thinks there's a nest of them not too far past the edge of the forest," Dipper said as they passed the garden. 

"Is that your family's garden?" Zoser asked, looking at it with interest as they passed.

"Yeah, Gramps has a collection of plants he likes growing," Dipper responded, hoping the deer didn't make an appearance. He thought he saw a tiny antler peeking from behind the mandrake leaves, but otherwise there was no sign of them.

"After you," Zoser said with a grin once they reached the first trees, motioning for Dipper to lead. Dipper headed in first, trying to remember the squirrels location. What had Gramps been thinking? This whole walk felt idiotic and contrived, as if the world had run out of ideas on how to get two people alone together. Squirrels. 

Still, Dipper made the attempt to remember where they hung out. The last time Dipper saw one of the furry thieves, they were making away with one of Gramps's prized tubers. He'd been expecting a Gnome to pop up out of nowhere, chastising him for chasing it, but none had.

Now, he could barely remember where the squirrel had gone. Somewhere to the east, at least a bit. Northeast, but more east than north?

"So, uh," Dipper began, thinking it was kind of weird to head into the woods by themselves in complete silence. He was starting to feel oddly unnerved and jittery. Something prickled his skin. "You and Mabel seem to be getting along well."

"Yeah, she is a pretty interesting person," Zoser said.

"Yeah, uh, maybe I shouldn't say this," Dipper said, turning to look at Zoser as they walked, "But, she kind of likes you, you know?"

"She does?" Zoser looked amused. His amber eyes glinted when he smiled. "That's a shame..."

"Why?" Dipper asked. He was starting to get shivers, cold drafts down his spine. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why. Suddenly, the forest seemed dark and hostile. He tried to ignore the feeling and pay attention to the other guy.

"She’s not really my type," Zoser said with a chuckle, his eyes meeting Dipper's. 

"Oh," was a Dipper could respond. In the shadows of the trees Zoser's eyes gleaned like gold coins set in his dark face, and Dipper couldn't help but think how gorgeous he was. Not in a sexual need-to-tap-that sort of way, either, but in an aesthetically overwhelming way. Dipper had figured out a long time ago that the sex thing wasn't for him, his attraction was geared more towards a person's aesthetic presence. It didn't cause him many problems, not in the general sense, although getting someone to understand was a hassle more often than not. Sometimes, however, he really wished he could turn it off. It was weird and it made him want to do stupid things like take peoples pictures or touch their face all in the spur of the moment... like right then...

He turned back to the trees quickly in an effort to keep himself from asking the cliché obvious question and to locate the damn squirrels finally.

That sense of foreboding, that quiet trickle of cold down his spine wasn't fading, however. It only grew, and with each step further into the forest it was stronger. He felt sweat beading on his forehead, found his hands shaking slightly as an overwhelming feeling of being watched fell upon him. The hostility of the forest was nearly tangible. He'd never felt anything like it. Even the shadowed woods of the Appalachian range hadn't been so cold, so distressing.

"Dipper, are you okay?" Zoser asked. Dipper turned to him and was shocked to find an icy smile on the man's face. Coldly calculating golden eyes gleamed at him, seemed to look right through him.

"I'm fine," Dipper responded, wiping sweat off of his brow. Was that really a cold smile on Zoser's face? He couldn't be sure, maybe he'd imagined it. The guy was certainly not smiling anymore, no longer cold faced. He looked at Dipper with worry, even reached out a hand to touch Dipper's arm.

"Are you sure? You're awfully pale..." Zoser said, his voice full of concern.

"Yeah," Dipper said, but he was lying. There were shadows creeping in the shadows at the edge of his vision. Every tree surrounding him had a knothole and every knothole was an eye. The forest stared at him with ancient malevolence. He was shaking and he couldn't stop, and when Zoser pulled him, gently, back towards the house he let himself he led away. 

"Come on, we can find the squirrels another day," Zoser said, pulling Dipper a little closer to himself. Dipper didn't mind; Zoser's hand on his arm grounded him, kept some of the odd feelings away. The trees rustled leaves angrily, roots seemed to jump out of the ground to trip him, but somehow he was able to ignore most of it. 

"I don't know what that was... I don't know..." Dipper flailed mentally. The feeling of foreboding receded along with the forest, but he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, as if someone had a microscope focused on him. 

"Maybe the barometric pressure had an effect on you?" Zoser mused out loud. "I heard there is going to be a storm tonight."

"Really?" Dipper wiped his forehead again with his free hand. He could've sworn there were no storms in the forecast on the news the night before... He shuddered suddenly, almost violently. Now that they were out in the open again, he felt chilled as a soft wind touched on the sweat in his face. He felt cold all over.

"Maybe you should go upstairs and lay down," Zoser said as he opened the kitchen door, still looking concerned. Very concerned. Dipper laughed at his expression.

"Do I look that bad?" He didn't let Zoser answer, instead stumbled in through the doorway. Only a few stray pieces of macaroni and half a cup of potato salad were left, and he could hear people laughing and talking in the living room.

"Do me a favor?" Dipper said, turning back to Zoser. "Don't tell Mabel I... whatever'd out there. I don't want her to worry over nothing."

"Of course," Zoser said with a grin, then patted Dipper on the back gently. "You get upstairs and get some rest."

"Yeah," Dipper nodded, and headed up the back staircase. Despite no longer being in the forest, he still felt watched, still felt disturbed. Now that Zoser was no longer around him, the feelings were slowly resurfacing. Stumbling into the attic room, Dipper closed the door behind him and fought to keep a panicked moan from rising in his throat. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He didn't know what it was but it was wrong and it was watching him and it was so horribly malevolent and wrong.

He fought the panic and fear inside him but it was getting stronger, and over it all that unbearable feeling of being watched rose.

Watched watched watched watched...

Eyes were on him, eyes saw him, unseen eyes were looking into him, boring into his soul.

Dipper looked up.

Across from him, the triangular window hung ominously. The sun's rays shone through it oddly, glimmering yellow, casting a long triangular shape in midday gold on the floor. The window's panes had been replaced long ago with designs of diamonds and stars, but in his fevered mind Dipper still saw it as it had been once, triangles within the triangle, and that one central slit pupilled eye.

He'd been wrong, and the realization hit him straight in the gut, sent him falling back against the door. He'd been wrong, and he'd been right... It hadn't been eyes on him.

It was an _eye_ on him, singular, one eye, watching him, looking at him, reading him...

He flung himself across the room. Desperately he clawed the covers off of his bed, pulled them to the window, and climbing up onto his desk he flung them over the unused drapery rid above it.

The covers were a dark blue, and they cut the light from the sun, leaving him in cerulean tinted darkness.

His breathing was rough, shallow, he was almost wheezing. His limbs shuddered, and his legs gave out as he stepped off of his desk. He crumpled to the floor, feeling drained and wasted. 

The watchful eye was gone. That feeling of foreboding and hostility had disappeared as soon as he had covered the window. His body was reeling with the aftermath but he no longer felt burdened by cold malevolence.

Shaking, he pushed himself off the floor and looked up at the window. Slowly, warily, he climbed back onto his desk, and pulled the covers off. He expected a return of the dreadful paranoia, the return of the hatred, but all he felt was warm sunlight on his face.

The window panes were as they had been that morning, diamonds and stars. No triangles. No eyes.

Dipper slid off the desk. He tossed the covers onto his bed, then fell onto the bed himself.

He stayed there staring at the window until sleep stole him away.

 


End file.
